scream at the sky
by fandrastic
Summary: because as good as she was at tearing things apart, he was just as good at putting things back together. spam drabbles for those who may/may not like spam, some slight seddie/creddie
1. one

hello, fellow readers/writers! this happens to be my first attempt at iCarly fanfiction. not that this is my first story--I've actually been writing for about 8 years now. so, while I'm new to the fandom, I'm definitely an old pro when it comes to fanfic. hopefully this is a lot better than I personally feel it is, but then again, I'm my own worst critic. besides, it's still hard enough to admit that I'm watching (and writing about) a kids show. :)

this is a sam/spencer series of drabble-y pieces, because I ship them so hard that it hurts. however, I ship legal!sam/spencer--not because I'm stringent about the whole 'of age' thing, but as an adult myself, I just can't fathom a healthy relationship between the two of them if sam is 15 or 16... and we all know we want them to have a healthy relationship. so in all of these, sam will be written as a legal adult.

this is going to be a series of about 100 or so drabbles (if I ever get the time, lucky classes end in 2 days) and I'll try to post them in increments of 10. the drabble themes came from some random 100 topics that I filched somewhere from the internet, plus I added some of my own.

so... read on! tell me what you think! you have no idea how much I'd appreciate the feedback!

* * *

**Fingertips**

It was an accident, the way his fingers grazed hers. The very touch sent a spark of something (_energy, fire, electricity)_ up the length of his arm and across his frame and he drew away; wounded, fearful, his very being charged with… something.

**Waiting**

He was waiting for it; the day she realized exactly how… lovely she really was. He was dreading it too—her beauty had always been a secret he felt lucky enough to be privy to. And he knew, knew deep down that everyone one else would start to see it as well. Because as soon as Sam Puckett stopped breaking fingers, she'd start breaking hearts.

**Stars**

_"She's all right, she just needs some space. She reasons better when she can see the sky."_ Carly assures him as the two of them watch the blonde sit on the roof with her back to them. He frowns; irritated that he can't reach her like he wants to. He watches as she lifts her upturned face to the clouds, and her shoulders fall as she relaxes, and he thinks he loves her even more.

**Letters**

She leaves him letters in places he least expects them—pockets of coats he hardly wears, the crack in wall next to the elevator, dimly lit corners of kitchen cupboards. Usually the notes are silly and perhaps a little pointless, but sometimes they're charming enough to make his heart thrum. He keeps them all.

**Silence**

Nobody spoke. Carly's eyes were impossibly wide. Freddie kept looking back and forth between the two of them as if staring would ease the surprise. Spencer sighed, lowering his gaze to Sam as he shook his head. _"Didn't I tell you not to open with, 'I'm sleeping with your brother, Carls'?"_

**Monopoly**

He didn't like playing games with her because to be honest, she was a sore loser, and if Sam was a sore loser, she made sure everyone else was sore as well. But somehow he couldn't resist the excitement on her face as she clutched the board game box to her chest. _"Dibs on Park Place and Broadway!"_ He opened his mouth to remind her there were no 'dibs' in Monopoly, but the dark bruise on his shoulder prompted him to keep quiet.

**Ring**

Carly and Freddie joke that he'll never settle down, never find a girl who'll put up with his antics (_Spencer, you make sculptures out of butter, for crying out loud!)_, but there's a ring burning a hole in his pocket and a laughing blonde to his sister's right whose fourth finger looks temptingly bare and whose bright grin promises a yes.

**Butterflies**

She never believed in that crap about butterflies and rainbows and magical hand-holding. Because when she fell in love; real, true love, it felt less like butterflies and more like a sucker punch. Which was okay—a sucker punch was something Sam knew how to handle.

**Stare**

He didn't mean to stare, lord knows it wasn't something he had anticipated doing, but she was wearing _those _jeans and _that _smile and he was pretty much a goner.

**Toxic**

_"Those things will kill you, you know."_ He chided, watching as she took a long drag on her cigarette. Debating on blowing smoke in his face—merely because she could—she instead smashed the lit end of her cigarette against the brick façade of the building. She gave him a pointed look, biting back a smirk, _"And what a way to go, too."_

_

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_

_thoughts? ideas? complaints? drop me a line and share the love (or something)._

_I'll try to have some more done for you all soon!_

_-fandrastic_


	2. two

welcome to chapter two! hopefully people enjoyed the first installment! it's not much, but it at least gives me something to post while I work on my longer story. feel free to comment on anything, I'd truly appreciate the feedback!

also, the rating is for language (as of now), I'm still debating if I plan on 'upping the ante' per se. :)

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****

Erratic

Red face, trembling hands, and the widest her eyes had ever been; her breath was catching fitfully in her chest and she wondered dimly what the sensation could possibly mean. It wasn't like he had proclaimed his love for her, he had merely placed his hand at the small of her back to usher her through the door. She knew it didn't mean anything, but she had trouble telling that to her whirring heart beat.

****

Twisted

It's almost okay that she shows up on his doorstep three years later, jaded and six months pregnant, because he's always had a thing for single moms and she has more daddy issues than either of them can count.

****

Free

It's a bad fight. She slings fists and he slings words—_neither of them really mean any of it—_but he's too proud and she's too stubborn to admit fault. With the loud smash of ceramic and glass —_he worked on the sculpture for weeks—_she's out the door, swearing and yelling and informing him congratulations, he's finally free of her, since that's evidently what he wants. But it's not and he doesn't feel free in the least.

****

Morgue

_"I just got a call from the police station, they, uh… want me to identify a… they think it's my mom. Could you… could you come get at the… morgue?"_ Her voice is wobbly and distracted (_and maybe a little bit relieved_) and it makes every nerve in his frame ache, because this is not the first time either of them has had to do this.

****

Choke

The emotion burns her throat and stings her eyes and for probably the first time in a long time, Sam Puckett feels helpless. And she hates herself because good friends don't fall in love with their best friends' older brother (_even if he is the only guy she can stand telling her what to do_). So she keeps the revelation to herself, even though her eyes continue to follow his every move and the secret chokes her like a poison.

****

Playboy

She's known for years that he's a serial dater, what with dating her history teacher, Carly's art instructor, the supermarket girl, even Gibby's mom, so she doesn't take him seriously when he asks her out. It's also clear to her that he never expected her to say no (_his emotions have always been so readable_) but it turns out to be good incentive into earning his way into her good graces. He has a feeling it will involve several trips to the butcher shop.

****

Phone Call

The ringing of his cell phone wakes him from a fitful slumber, and when Spencer presses the device to his ear, Sam's voice fully wakes him with a jolt. _"Jail? You're in jail? Am I your one phone call?"_ She laughs despite the situation, _"Yeah, just like in the movies."_

****

Paint

Blue stained hands brush loose strands of dark hair out of his eyes, and he looks up to see her smiling and shaking her head in laughter. Once again, the sculpture doesn't turn out as he planned—what starts as a sculpture of her smile turns into something that resembles an underwater taxi cab, if there was such a thing. Her amusement reassures him, but he wonders, dispirited, if he'll ever be able to do her smile any justice.

****

Hold

She doesn't realize the power she holds over people (_it's probably those goddamn perfect ringlets_). He can see that Freddie, while too stubborn to come to terms with his emotions, is practically half in love with her. Briefly, he wonders if he feels that way about her as well, but Spencer knows deep down that it would be painfully unconventional to be with her, and Sam could probably use a little convention in her life.

****

Marzipan

It's surprising, that the only worthwhile thing she ever learned from her mother was how to make sweets. Seeing Sam act domestic is also something that sort of takes him aback, but she's up to her elbows in powdered sugar and her mouth tastes like marzipan, so he can't really complain. 

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and there's chapter two! leave me a note and let me know what you like and what you don't!

-fandrastic


	3. three

here's chapter three, hope it's to everyone's satisfaction!

:)

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**Burn**

It was no secret that Spencer was a clumsy person. Carly had hoped that he'd gain a little more grace as he got older, and for a while, he did. She no longer had to childproof sharp corners or hide the matches, and could leave silverware out without worry. But then Sam started coming around the loft with her deadbeat boyfriend, and Spencer managed to set the both the stereo and sofa on fire.

**Dust**

It's not until she leaves that he finally understands how much she means to all of them (_to him_). Practically the second she graduates, she's gone, leaving behind only a worn blue remote, a stash of fatcakes in the cupboard, and a thin layer of dust on a note next to his bed.

**Reach**

It's the middle of the day at Bushwell as they return from the junkyard, their arms laden with scrap metal. They can hear people milling about in the hallway, but Sam takes no heed and kisses him soundly in the middle of the stairwell. She's just about his height when she's standing two steps above him, and Spencer muses inwardly about what it would be like to lean down himself and kiss her once they reach the landing.

**Drive**

Sometimes they go out and visit his favorite galleries. Sometimes they stay in and watch bad kung fu movies. And sometimes they drive; pick a direction and don't stop for miles and miles, wondering how far they might get before anyone noticed they were gone. They always turn back, but it's enough for him to see the wind in her hair, and it's enough for her to see the tension leave his shoulders, if only for a few hours.

**Revenge**

While he may not realize it, he's always gone after blondes who've had no problem speaking their minds. It pisses her off. So she hooks up with a dark haired painter and holds her breath when she brings Dylan over to the loft.

**Scarred**

Spencer tears a large gash in his shoulder when he gets too close to an unsteady mountain of scrap metal while out searching for sculpting supplies, and (_once he gets back from the clinic—they know him by name there_), he tells this story to Carly and Sam. His younger sister shoots the blonde a look, remembering quite vividly _"Ooh, scars are hot!" _From the smirk on her face, it appears that Sam remembers as well.

**Soft**

She's as tough as nails. There's a surprisingly scrappy strength about her, and although she's girlishly small in stature, she's not afraid to throw all her weight behind a punch. Most people think she's all rough edges and barbed words, but Spencer knows that although her nails are sharp, her hands are soft.

**Ignore**

For a long time, he disregards her subtle advances (_it's the only thing subtle about her_) and instead pretends that nothing between them has changed, that he hasn't noticed how she's radically trying to shift their entire dynamic. She's so adamant that they're right for each other, but he just _can't_, and he doesn't recognize that he _can _until she finds someone else and disregards him in turn.

**Loved**

They're all adults now (_it makes him feel so old_) but that doesn't mean that they're free from all their troubles. Carly is still a wreck for a week every year on anniversary of their mother's passing, and even though Spencer carries that same pain, Sam is the only one who can really comfort her. All it takes is _"Hey now, I've got you, kiddo. Mama's got you" _and it dawns on him that _this _is why Sam Puckett is so beloved by the Shays.

**Futile**

She moved in and it all went downhill from there. Just because Sam could beat up a linebacker, didn't mean that having her around would be like living with one. It was like living with a girl; a girl who cracked jokes and watched MMA fights and had the loveliest smile he'd even seen. It was foolish to think he wouldn't become enamored by her—Spencer had always been a sucker for a one-liner and a smirk.

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thanks for reading, lovelies! drop me a line to let me know what you think!

-fandrastic


	4. four

here's a HUGE thank you to both sockstar and lovelyMESS for reviewing faithfully! it truly means the world to me, and your words of encouragement mean everything to me. :)

THANKS!

and now, on with the next chapter!

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**Reality**

She was living with him. They weren't _together_, but she needed a place to stay… which meant she was in the loft 24/7—eating _his_ food, stealing _his_ shirts, and leaving _his_ towels on the floor in _his_ bathroom. But it wasn't like living with his sister, who was meticulous to a fault. There was now a purple razor next to his in the shower, a circlet of pills in his medicine cabinet, and all of the collars of his shirts now smelled like cinnamon.

**Alive**

She drives him crazy in ways he never knew were possible (_and he's dated some pretty crazy chicks_). It doesn't matter that she's gone all day and night—no note, no call, no clue to where she's run off to. And when she does finally return, he should be pissed, should be furious with her, but she waltzes in, throws him a smirk and a _"Hey handsome, what goes on?"_ and he can't feel anything but alive.

**Fight**

He gets it now, why she's always picking fights with people. He never actually fought with her before (because _he_ was Carly's brother and _she_ was Carly's friend) but now they're _Spencer&Sam_ and she's really making him livid. But her rosy face and vibrant eyes are making it difficult for him to concentrate on his argument, and she notices as well because she settles herself onto his lap and roughly slants her mouth over his. He didn't understand it before, but he does now and the fighting makes the very air between them thrum.

**Naked**

They've each had sex before—just not with each other. He shouldn't be nervous (_because he's not a sixteen year old virgin, for Christ's sake_) but he is nervous and he really hopes that his apprehension isn't apparent on his face. It's one thing to merely _say_ naked or _think _naked, but then to realize that it's real (_she's real_), that he can see the slight indentations her bra has left across her back and the smattering of freckles on her arms (_Jesus, he's seen her arms before, why is his heart racing?_)… it's enough to make him hope that she's just as staggered as he is.

**Space**

She's found a way to sneak into every aspect of his life that when she finally leaves, he feels so hollow that it aches. He never expected anyone to fit as well as she did with him (_who would've expected it'd be his sister's best friend_) and he certainly took her for granted. All that he's left with now is a loft that echoes and a bed that's too big.

**I Know**

There are words that Sam wishes she could say, but she's been conditioned all her life _not _to say what's truly in her heart. While she's had close friends who mean the world to her, she's never felt that she has deserved their devotion. She's been trained (_through the negligence of her parents_) that she's done nothing to earn love. So when the words are finally on the tip of her tongue, and her eyes are watering and she _hates _herself for it, Spencer threads his fingers through her hair and rests his forehead against hers, whispering, _"I know, Sam, I know"_.

**Devious**

It borders on ridiculous; how the mere curve of her mouth and defiant raise of her chin can make him think the most devious, traitorous thoughts.

**Murmur**

The loft is usually noisy—neither of them are quiet people. He shouts everything in his perpetual excitement and she's a professional at turning every disagreement into a screaming match. But when she lies with him in the dark, tangling limbs together and whispering against his skin (_to which he replies just as softly_), he finds that this is just as in character for the both of them.

**Garden**

He loves her, but he worries. She doesn't realize that there are so many guys out there who are better for her than he is—guys her age with steady jobs and ten year plans and picket fences. All he has is a loft and a motorcycle and a penchant for sculpting. So she assures him that she doesn't want the garden and the golden retriever and the Dutch colonial—she wants him and the loft and the motorcycle and all of the sculptures.

**Push**

The moment things get difficult, her instinct is to push him aside and to run as far as she can, as fast as she can. But he's also an old pro at avoiding issues, so he pushes her right back. She's taken by surprise (_he loves it when he one-ups her and can see the proof on her face_) and her instinct to flee turns to a desire to fight. Fighting he can handle—it's the running away he can't.

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_and that's chapter four! what did you think? drop me a line and share your thoughts :)_

_-fandrastic_


	5. five

**hello, faithful readers! thank you so much for your support! special thanks goes to lovelyMESS, StylishCandy, JunoLuv, kay, and Myalika! also, shout-outs to those who read and reviewed this over that the Groovy Smoothie on lj. it means the world to me. :)**

**enjoy chapter five!**

**Isolation**

In all his years, Spencer has never once lived on his own—even in college he had a roommate—and the isolation gets to him. It's only natural that he finds something familiar to cling to, it just so happens that this _thing_ has the strongest right hook he's ever seen… and the sootiest lashes as well.

**Breakable**

Sam was always the strongest out of all of them, and not just physically; she had to be strong to deal with the disaster that was her home life. But Spencer learned soon enough, that deep down she was just as fragile as any person, when he heard her weeping inconsolably on the phone to Carly; crying over a father who never wanted her and a mother who didn't know how.

**Echo**

It's like his worst fear come to life—he opens the front door to the loft to find the place empty (she's cleared out her drawer _and_ taken her secret stash of fatcakes) and the only sound he hears is his voice echoing against his bedroom walls (_it resonates against his chest and he feels so terribly empty)._

**Heat**

She's scalded, branded by him; left immobilized as his fingertips trace her mouth and his eyes search hers (_her whole body feels scorched)_. She doesn't have any idea what he's looking for, but if the heat in her own gaze matches what she sees in his, then she has a feeling he'll find it.

**Difficult**

Despite her rough exterior, Sam had always been an attentive and thoughtful girlfriend. Of course, a long string of bad relationships had left her jaded and more than reluctant to seriously commit to another person (_did she have a sign on her back that said 'break my heart'?_). But now she's with _him _and the look in his eyes is so achingly honest that she wants to turn away but _can't_, and she doesn't know whether to run away or freefall into it.

**Nightmare**

She has strange, horrible dreams growing up; dreams where Carly and Freddie get together and stop being friends with her, where a monster bursts into the kitchen and steals her soup, where she walks to the lobby at Bushwell only to find that Nevel has teamed up with Lewbert to throw her into juvie. But now, she's older and the nightmares are different—where she comes home to nothing but an empty loft and a half-hearted note, that the papers report an _actual_ obituary, that she ends up in prison. When she wakes with a start in the night, what's different now is that she's quickly enveloped in a pair of familiar arms and lulled back to sleep by a warm voice against the curve of her shoulder.

**Monster**

He had a girlfriend; a smiling, bubbly, blonde girlfriend with a car and a job and cute middle name. She was so _cool _about everything (_Sam's your roommate, Spencer? How nice!)_ and so _friendly_ to everyone (_Thanks for the gluten-free, sugar-free, dairy-free recipe book, Mrs. Benson!)_ and Sam hated her, despised and envied her in her green-eyed jealousy. It wasn't because Spencer was so happy with her (_how could she begrudge him that stupid smile of his?_), it was because _she _wanted to be the one to put that stupid smile on his face.

**Fall**

He watched her from the outside, aware of the partying and the drinking and the general poor teenage behavior. He was her one phone call, her free ride, her guilty conscience. They both were aware of the fact that she was quickly falling, spiraling out of control, but she was too proud to ask for help and he wasn't her friend _enough_ to plead for her to stop breaking herself. It wasn't until she broke into his room in the middle of the night, shaking and strung out and crying "_I don't want to end up like my mother"_ that he learned that maybe he was enough to save her.

**Soothe**

Sometimes she feels like she's holding him back, like he's on the verge of a creative breakthrough, an artistic epiphany, but just can't reach it because _she's_ there, harshing the vibe or corrupting the zen or whatever. But Spencer, who's always been surprisingly attuned to her, soothes her fears with a smile and a flourish with a paintbrush, promising that she is in fact, his muse.

**Contagious**

Carly and Freddie don't know. They don't know that when their backs are turned, Sam's busy flashing Spencer a look that makes him blush crimson. They don't know that when they all sit together at the dinner table, Spencer's hand is tracing distracting circles on Sam's knee from underneath the tabletop. They don't know that while they've been off at their respective colleges, that Sam's been sleeping over at the loft just as much as she did when she was in high school. But what Carly and Freddie _do _know, is that whatever is going on, is apparently contagious, and they catch each other's eyes with a smile.

_thanks for reading! drop me a line and let me know what you think!_

_x_

_fandrastic_


	6. six

hello readers! once again, thank you SO MUCH for your support. it means a lot to me. special thanks to lovelyMESS, sockstar, and StylishCandy for giving me such lovely reviews. you all have my deepest thanks. :)

and now, on to chapter six! we're more than halfway done!

* * *

**Tongue-tied**

He's trying his hardest to listen to the words she's saying, but the curve of her mouth is highly distracting (_and oddly inspiring_), and when she looks to him for a reply, the answer is trapped somewhere between his lungs and his lips, leaving him more breathless than he'd care to admit.

**Goodbye**

She had a small apartment, a boring-but-steady job, and a bland little four-door sedan. She made a point of being independent, of not needing to haunt the loft as she used to as a girl. The only time he really saw her was when she'd join them on the trip to the airport when Carly and Freddie would head back to college. But it was there, saying farewell to them at the luggage counter, that she'd lean into his tall frame and curl her fingers around his belt loops, letting him know that she really could use somebody else to rely on.

**Missing**

He wants to sculpt her again, but he's unsure. The nervousness has less to do with what he might accidentally leave out of her sculpture, and more to do with what he might include.

**Odds and Ends**

Despite the loft being covered in a multitude of assorted knickknacks, the top of Spencer's dresser has always been relatively clear, save for a few photographs. But now, instead of only a few pictures, there are a few scattered pieces of jewelry, a bottle of perfume (_she says she likes it because it smells like frosting_) and a pocket sized paintball blow tube dotted with navy-colored paint.

**Perfection**

She moves in for a few weeks when she learns her apartment building is being renovated. Spencer tells her it's fine ("_No problem-o, Sam"_) if she stays in the loft for the duration, but secretly he worries that it'll be uncomfortable for them both. They've always had Carly as a buffer and he wonders if it'll be weird to see Sam in her pajamas, eating his cereal when his younger sister is _not_ upstairs. But it feels right (_pretty damn perfect_), although the realization is shattered when he remembers that it's not permanent (_and she's never been the permanent type_).

**Odd Socks**

Carly's always known a slew of strange facts about Sam; how she likes the color brown because it's the color of gravy, that she always wears two different colored socks, and that she had to repeat the third grade. But Spencer takes great pride in the things he knows that Carly _doesn't_; that Sam has a small constellation of freckles at the base of her hip, that she's deathly afraid of ending up like her mother, and that she always (_always_) knew that she'd end up with him.

**Born**

Sam had never wanted kids. She didn't have the most idyllic childhood, and was certainly lacking in maternal figures—how could she be a mother when she hardly had one herself? Spencer never pressured her—Sam was not one to be forced into _anything_, but then Freddie and Carly showed up with their strangely perfect little bundle of life that looked like the ideal combination of the both of them, and Sam had never wanted anything more in her life.

**Subtle**

Sam has never been a low-key kind of person, and she'd be the first to admit that she has always had abrasive tendencies. But she's serious about this (_about him_) so she's trying her hand at subtlety. Yet time goes on and _nothing_ happens—either she's doing something wrong or Spencer is just really _that_ unaware—but if something doesn't happen soon, she might just have to push subtlety aside and do things the Seattle way.

**Belong**

It doesn't matter that she gets him in ways that no one else does. It doesn't matter that the sound of her laughter makes him feel like he's finally (_finally_) doing something right. It doesn't matter that she's the only person he can see himself belonging to… and it doesn't matter because she's in love with the boy across the hall.

**Listen**

She's so sick of that sappy romantic crap about girls _'falling asleep to the soft lull of their loved one's heartbeat'_, because she's tried it before and heartbeats are _boring._ Instead, she sprawls across his mattress and listens to him talk about art and law school and Socko's crazy relatives, and it's his passionate whispers of these things that lull her, heartbeat be damned.

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_leave me a review (please?) and let me know what you think! chapter seven is almost done, so expect another update soon!_

_x_

_fandrastic_


	7. seven

hello readers! thank you ALL for reading and reviewing! there was such a remarkable influx of reviews for the last chapter--I'm honored. :) but I'd really like to thank all my reviewers individually, so lots of love to Myalika, sockstar, Snapplelinz, StylishCandy, axel100, and lovelyMESS. your words of encouragement mean everything to me.

also, I'd like to address some of the things that were mentioned in the reviews. just to clarify what I said in the first chapter, Sam is at _least_ 18 in each of these drabbles. some of them are pretty obviously written to take place many years after the trio's graduation, and some of them aren't, so keep in mind that while Sam is not 18 in all of the drabbles, she's at _least_ that old. a lot of people find sam/spencer to be kind of weird, so I wanted to address that age (well, being _under_age) is not an issue in this.

and, all of the drabbles are stand-alones, unless otherwise marked. each one is its own little story.

okay! that's all the housekeeping I think! thanks for the support everyone, and enjoy chapter seven! it's one of my favorites! :)

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**Addicted**  
Neither of them mean for it to happen. She's been living in Chicago for the last two years _(Carly said she was looking for her father)_ and one day without warning, she shows up on his doorstep. One minute they're discussing the time difference and deep dish pizza and the next minute he's fusing his mouth to hers and she can't seem to work the buckle on his belt fast enough. They both know they shouldn't be doing this, but she's finally back in his arms and Spencer's always had trouble breaking bad habits.

**Seasons (a series of four)**

**_Fall_**

It's September when he gets a call from the girl he hasn't heard from in three years. He imagines her as she speaks and wonders if she's changed much _(and then wonders the same about himself)_. She tells him she's moving back to Seattle—apparently Los Angeles is 'jank'—and she wants nothing more than to hang out with him like they used to. He agrees _(probably too quickly)_ and can't help but feel the change in the air.

**_Winter_**

December rolls around _(surprisingly cold)_ and she's still there, renting a flat half a block away, except it's mostly for storage, as she's always at Bushwell. There's a startling amount of snowfall one evening and they both convince each other that the weather's too bad for her to leave. Besides, her toothbrush and favorite pair of pajamas are here, tucked in a drawer he says he just _had_ empty _(but really emptied especially for her)_. At this point he knows that whatever they had between them in the past is gone, and whatever it is now is going to take some getting used to.

**_Spring_**

The rains return in March and she's taken to slipping into bed with him each night. He knows he should he appalled at himself, carrying on with his sister's best friend, but she looks so good in his sheets that he can't bring himself to care. He's not sure _what _they are—she hates labels—but everything is so new and exciting that he lets it go and simply concerns himself with discovering all that he can about her.

**_Summer_**

With the arrival of June also comes the return of his sister and the boy across the hall. He worries she'll clam up and run _(they've made so much progress; she kisses him in public, sometimes too much)_. They return in a heat wave out of character for the city, and the boy across the hallway has gotten _so_ tall and his sister looks _so_ grown up, but she doesn't falter or sway and kisses him soundly when the two enter the loft. His sister is unfazed; the boy across the hall rolls his eyes and blames the weather. Still, with her in his arms, he knows that the two are bearing witness to the fruition of an entire year.

**Alcohol**  
He's never been a drinker _(not when his mother was killed by an intoxicated driver)_ but he has a drink every single time he thinks about her when he shouldn't. He gets a wedding invitation in the mail _("Be in my wedding party, Spence?")_ and he gets far too drunk far too quickly. But in the end it doesn't make any difference, because she'll always be at the bottom of that bottle, and he knows he could never turn down an occasion to wear his tux.

**Spider Web**  
Her mother had run off months ago, only leaving behind a house with late mortgage payments and a rusted station wagon that wouldn't start, and even though Sam feels somewhat abandoned, she also feels kind of free. The portraits and photographs that line the staircase are filmy with dust and spider webs, but it's okay because this place had never been home to her anyway, and the warm hand against the small of her back assured her of this.

**Snore**  
It doesn't matter that she sort of snores_ (and sometimes kicks)_ because this is where she's supposed to be; in his arms and against his heart.

**Blush**  
Sam Puckett does _not _blush, at least not that she'll admit to. But sometimes, she'll look up to see him staring at her, a smirk on his lips and a gleam in his eyes that says_ "I know exactly what you look like in your birthday suit"_, and she tries to fight the heat that threatens to bloom across her face.

**Pauses**  
She never really thought about him in that way. They were close—she practically spent all of her high school at Bushwell—but she was never interested in him. But Carly keeps going on and on about how well they 'click' and what great 'chemistry' they have, and now she can't help but consider it.

**Verbal**  
She's always been a very vocal person. He can usually gauge her anger by how loud she screams _(at him)_, but one time they fight _(oh, she's so furious) _and he panics because instead of yelling, he's met only with stark silence and a frosty glare. He finds himself missing the shouting.

**Pretend**  
It's a common misconception that Sam is brutish and hulking one hundred percent of the time. She knows how to be feminine—she used to win _beauty_ pageants—she just chooses not to. It's amusing for her to pretend that she's all elbow jabs and squared shoulders, because at the end of the day, they both know exactly how good she looks in nothing but her tiara.

**Puzzle**  
It's so strange for Carly. She comes home from her junior year at Stanford and everything is _exactly_ the same _(it's like stepping back in time)_—only she can't figure out why Spencer knows where Sam hides her spare clothes in the loft.

* * *

thanks for reading! drop me a line and share your thoughts!

x

fandrastic


	8. eight

hello darlings! there were SO many kind reviews left for the last chapter--I'm honored! it was definitely one of my favorite chapters, and I'm glad you all enjoyed it!

special thanks goes out to: ur1onlybravecoward, lovelyMESS, Myalika, iamshunpike, Snapplelinz, StylishCandy, Sarah, sockstar, and Steampunk Beauty. thank you all from the bottom of my heart, honestly. it means the world to me that you all love this drabble series as much as I do.

also, some of you mentioned me writing a regular, full-length story, and I'm pleased to inform you that once _'scream at the sky'_ is finished, I will be working on a longer story. right now I have most of the prologue and first chapter done. however, that story will probably not be up for a bit because I'm notorious for taking waaaaay too long to write longer stories, and I want to have a decent chunk of it done for posting so you all don't hate me and think I've abandoned it. during this time, I'll _try_ to do some oneshots (but no promises, I'm lazy, lol) but I do promise you that there is a sam/spencer full length story in the works. the title of it is _'love at second sight'_. so be on the look out for that in the coming weeks!

once again, THANK YOU! you're all such darlings for supporting me through this. :)

* * *

**Notice**

Maybe it's weird (_he's not trying to be weird, honestly_) but he sometimes sees things about her that other people don't seem to. Like, no matter how tough she can be, sometimes Freddie's retorts hurt her; he can see it in the way she drops her chin and her eyes lose their vibrancy, or that occasionally she gets jealous of Carly's good fortune with guys, because her jaw will clench and her brow will furrow when his sister goes on and on about her new boyfriend. And sometimes, when they're all hanging out and having a good time, she'll crack a joke and turn to see his reaction (_and when he laughs her whole face lights up_). No one else seems to catch onto these things, but Spencer notices.

**Color**

What had begun as an outing to the scrap yard to find materials for his new commission piece, turned into hunting for more bits of foil, like the torn sheet he found pinned under an old tire. It didn't have anything to do with his commission piece, but the foil was the same exact shade of her hair _(when she stood in the light by his bedroom window and told him that she loved him)_.

**Sacrifice**

She gets pregnant (_"No more fake Cuban birth control for me!"_). He gives up his motorcycle and she gives up processed meats and it's _hard_, but when they finally meet their little one (_"Can we name him meatloaf?" "No."_), they both agree that the sacrifices were totally worth it.

**Glass**

He's trying to wash the dirty dishes and she's sitting cross-legged on the kitchen island, decidedly _not _helping, when the words slip out of her mouth. She tells him like it's no big deal (_"So, I'm pretty sure I'm in love with you."_) but it _is_ a big deal and a colorful serving platter slides out of his hands and shatters on the floor. But before she can make a remark (_or take it back, he knows how skittish she really is_) he turns, places a soapy hand under her chin and lets her know his reply with a kiss.

**Elusive**

There's an odd tightness in his chest, a strange, heavy ache that seems to wrap around each of his ribs, a sensation that only occurs when she's around. He has no idea what the elusive feeling represents, but it lessens when she leaves. Yet even then, he's filled instead with a staggering hollowness that confuses him even more.

**Mirror**

Sharing the loft with her is really weird as first. It takes them a while to work out a familiar rhythm and pattern to their cohabitation, but he learns that she does things like leave notes written with a bar of soap on his bathroom mirror, and he finds that she's something he could definitely get used to.

**Older**

By the time they start throwing the word 'marriage' around, he's getting pretty damn close to forty—a little _too_ close for his tastes. But she merely grins as she tucks her hands into the back pockets of his jeans, reminding him that the one thing about aging is that it happens to everyone, and while he's pushing forty, she's almost thirty herself.

**Electrify**

It's at a point now where he doesn't even need to touch her for her to feel that spark, just having him stand near her sets every single nerve in her body aflame. And when he smiles at her (_oh, heaven forbid_) it's like lightning sending volts of electricity throughout her (_and her brain is firing all these thoughts and feelings and it's like love but it just can't be because Sam Puckett is incapable of love_) and she just can't seem to catch her breath around him anymore.

**Cards**

The power goes out (_"Well what the hell are we supposed to do now?"_) so he finds some candles and flashlights and decides to risk playing cards with her; always a dicey decision. He doesn't have any cash on hand (_lies, but she'd blow it all on smoked meats and he's kind of a miser_) and she's too cheap to offer up her own. Jokingly, he suggests strip poker; she kicks him as hard as she can in the shin and unbuttons her shirt before shuffling the deck.

**Run**

More than anything, she wanted to bolt. She wanted to turn on her heel and race out of the loft, out of the building, out of Seattle. But, she really did love him, and wanted to be an adult with an adult relationship, so she pushed aside her instinct to flee and faced his honesty straight on.

* * *

and that's chapter eight! yikes, we're almost done! can you believe it?  
drop me a line and share your thoughts!

x

fandrastic


	9. nine

look! another chapter, and only a day after I posted the chapter eight! truly, I couldn't wait to post anymore. both chapter nine (tada!) and chapter ten are written and typed up, so I will be posting THE FINAL CHAPTER tomorrow. crazy, huh? hopefully you're enjoying the series, I've had such a lovely time writing it! while I do like this chapter, I definitely think chapter ten is better. so at least I'll be ending on a high note!

special thanks to ur1onlybravecoward, Texasgirl2014, StylishCandy, and lovelyMESS for leaving me reviews. you are all amazing and I love you. thank you from the bottom of my heart.

now, enough of that sappy stuff. here's chapter nine! ONLY ONE CHAPTER LEFT...

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**Veneer**

He should have listened to his better judgment and stayed away from her, yet the temptation had been far too great. But now their relationship is over (_he didn't leave the loft for weeks_) and he has to deal with Carly talking about and inviting her over and Freddie kissing her in the hallway (_does he even know about that sweet spot beneath her ear?_) so Spencer puts on a façade and acts like nothing has changed, that she didn't break his heart or that there's not still a box of her stuff in his closet.

**Collide**

It had been ages since they'd seem each other. He stayed in Seattle (_it had always been home_) and she traveled around the country (_home was still a mystery to her_) and like most people apart, they lost touch. But then she received an invite for a gallery opening and she couldn't seem to fly back to Washington fast enough. He didn't know she was coming (_it was all Carly's idea_) and she spent most of her time at the opening watching him from a distance instead of admiring the art. But a strange piece caught her eye (_was that her old remote?_) and she took her eyes off him for a moment. When she turned back, she found herself face to face with him (_"Sam…"_) and even though her hair was longer and his eyes were now framed with glasses, it was as if nothing had changed.

**July**

She moves into the loft in July. She's twenty-five years old and has a job (_it's okay work, at least the pay is decent_) but she still doesn't have enough cash yet for her own place in a part of the city that's worth paying for. He's thirty-six when she moves in (_thirty-seven in the fall_) and his girlfriend does _not_ approve. His girlfriend does not approve because Sam moved in and it's July and Sam's walking around in boxer shorts (_are they his?_) and tank tops and they can see all sorts of straps on her shoulders (_the skin there looks enticingly soft_). She complains to him, as if the month is supposed to mean something. It's July when Spencer breaks up with his girlfriend and finds out exactly how soft Sam's shoulders are.

**Repeat**

It's the last thing he expects out of her mouth as she lies next to him in bed (_"So do you think we should get married?"_). He's so taken aback that he asks her to repeat the question—she does so, but not before slugging him in the arm. When he's finally able to process her words (_and revel in the warmth spreading across his chest_), he rolls over to fish something out of his nightstand and turns back to press a small object into her palm. He watches with a wide smile as she slides the ring appraisingly onto her finger, and then laughs, because he should have known better than assume they'd have a proper proposal.

**Experience**

As free-thinking as Spencer was, he was hung up on society's view on their relationship. Sure, he was eleven years older than her, but hadn't he always acted youthful and she seen far more than her peers? But he couldn't get over the fact that when he had his first kiss, she was taking her first steps. When he lost his virginity, she lost her first tooth. In the end, it made no difference that she was crazy about him, because he assumed he was crazy for even considering it.

**Jealous**

After telling her repeatedly that a relationship would never work between them, he _shouldn't_ be feeling that white-hot flare of envy when she went out on dates with other guys (_and returned with swollen lips and starry eyes_), but he did.

**Dawn**

Neither of them are early risers, but Sam finds herself waking up early some mornings just to see the way the pale sunlight illuminates his features, before grabbing the camcorder and screaming him into wakefulness.

**Jagged**

Two weeks after graduation, she cornered him by the hallway to his bedroom and kissed him, rising on tiptoe to reach his mouth. He was stunned, but kissed her back; he was afraid to touch her, but even _more_ afraid not to. They continued with this (_whatever it was_) throughout the summer in secret and he promised himself he wouldn't get too emotionally involved (_he was a lover and she was a fighter_) but he couldn't fight against his heart in the same way that she did. When autumn arrived she disappeared, running off to Chicago or New York (_or somewhere else with brighter lights than Seattle_), leaving behind a jagged hole in his life that he could never seem to fill.

**Desire**

He knew he was doomed the moment he let her move in. It didn't matter than she was sister's best friend and could easily beat the crap out of him if she wanted to—there was a young, beautiful female living in his apartment that liked his art and laughed at his jokes. And all of a sudden, he stopped seeing her as his sister's best friend and started seeing her as Sam, his hot and deceptively dangerous roommate, and he wanted her.

**Steady**

His father is injured overseas, Carly talks about dropping out of NYU, his art isn't selling, and yet the only steady thing he can rely on, is the normally _unsteady_ blonde whose fingers are laced tightly with his.

* * *

and that's nine! what did you think? hopefully it met your standards!

drop me a line and let me know, I thrive on feedback. :)

x

fandrastic


	10. ten

here it is, kiddos, the final chapter. from the bottom of my heart I want to thank everyone who favorited me, the story, and everyone who reviewed. your support made it so easy for me to feel welcome in this fandom, and helped bring this entire series to fruition. so _thank you_.

extra love goes to lovelyMESS, ur1onlybravecoward, and StylishCandy for reviewing the chapter nine. you're all wonderful and I love you. :)

this chapter is a little more angsty than the others, but who doesn't love some good angst? hopefully you'll all enjoy it--I'm very proud of this chapter.

thank you all once again for loving _'scream at the sky'_ as much as I do. it truly means everything to me.

* * *

**Breathing**

She's usually so animated in everything that she does, that he's surprised to learn that she's a steady, deep sleeper. When she's awake, his gaze always follows her unrestrained movements, but when she sleeps (_it's the only time he can stare without risking life and limb_), he finds that his gaze often strays to watch the gentle rise and fall of her rhythmic breathing.

**Power**

It oftentimes seems like she has the majority of power in their relationship. She's bossy and violent and rarely bends to the wills of others, but when he pins her up against his bedroom door (_her wrists are so thin and her lips are so full_) and kisses that smart mouth of hers, the balance of power is restored (_for the time being_).

**Starve**

There was a time when she knew (_with each and every fiber of her being_) that she was in love with him, and that she was pretty sure he felt the same way. Yet there was no way on earth that she'd risk her friendships (_with him and with Carly_) on the slim chance that he _might_ feel the same way. Because she knew (_from the long line of cheating ex-boyfriends and the shining example of her parents_) that relationships never lasted (_there must have been something wrong with her_). But she also knew that her friendship with Carly was forever, so Sam stuffed her feelings for Spencer away, denied herself over and over, and convinced each and every fiber of her being that she didn't crave him like she craved sustenance.

**Drought**

She must have done something to upset him, because _everything_ is different now. Before, he'd hang out with her even if Carly wasn't around, answer her dumb text messages with even dumber ones of his own, and slip his arm around her shoulders when he could tell she was in one of her moods. But then she turned eighteen and all of a sudden he leaves the room whenever he realizes they're alone together (_the look in his eyes is so strange_), doesn't stand near her or touch her (_she can't remember the last time they hugged_), and definitely doesn't call her anymore (_his voice always sounded so different over the phone_). And in the middle of all this Seattle rain, she feels like she's in a drought.

**Fragment**

She doesn't have many relationships anymore because she's been burned too badly too often (_because she loves too deeply too fast_). Even though she'd rather chew glass than admit it, she really is a romantic at heart, and each time a loved one leaves her, they take away a piece of her that she'll never get back. All she's left with now are splinters of her former self, and even though she loves him, she doesn't know if she can part with another piece. Because if he leaves (_they all seem to leave_) she might not have enough left to survive.

**Lies**

Even after all these years, he's still a terrible liar (_but she's good enough for the both of them_), though he _has_ gotten better at telling people what they want to hear. So when Carly questions him as to why Sam's always around the loft, even when she's not there, Spencer says Sam's having boyfriend issues (_which is true; he wants her to move in and she won't_) and when Freddie corners him and demands to know if he's sleeping with Sam, Spencer tells him he's not (_because when she does stay the night, not much sleeping gets done and she's always gone in the morning_). So maybe he's telling half-truths, but Sam is quite impressed.

**Good Riddance**

He turned her down because he couldn't seem to picture anyone being okay with him dating a girl eleven years his junior (_would the look on Grandad's face haunt him more than the look on her face already did?_). For months afterward, he was forced to watch her get over him—she was still Carly's best friend and still over at the loft 24/7—and it _hurt_, made his chest ache with too many emotions when she finally allowed his sister to set her up on some blind date. But it didn't even matter that the date was a bust (_even though that felt kind of good_) because things were so different between them that when she returned, she didn't even spare him a glance before she bolted up to Carly's room (_and just as she pretended he wasn't there, he pretended he couldn't hear her sobs_).

**Haze**

He presses his lips to her throat and her mind turns to fog. Her vision is shaded by shimmering waves of heat (_it's all in her head and it feels so good_). The air is too thick, too heavy to breathe and her head feels so light but she wouldn't trade the sensation for the world. And oh, when his fingers skate across her ribs (_surely there is no sweeter death than this_) the mist grows stifling and if she could drown in him, she would.

**Recoil**

He was afraid to touch her, because reaching out (_to curl his fingers around one of those golden ringlets or to run a hand over that peachy skin_) meant admitting that he wanted to in the first place, that he wanted to know these things about her (_his little sister's best friend, for God's sake_). So he always drew back his traitorous hand, recoiled as if burned or bitten, and avoided the questioning look in her gaze.

**Fit**

They're far from perfect. She's a tornado with a sailor's colorful vernacular and he's a distracted artist with a penchant for incinerating things, but they love each other. Everything else (_the fights, the faults, and the failures_) falls to the wayside—because as good as she was at tearing things apart, he was just as good at putting things back together (_and they fit_).

_the end_

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_and there you have it! did it meet all your expectations? drop me a line and let me know what you think!_

_also keep an eye out for 'love at second sight', my full-length story that should be posted soon-ish._

_:)_

_x_

_fandrastic_


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